


Order.

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:18:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony changes Bruce's world order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Order.

Bruce always wakes up at the same time, every day, no matter what time he fell asleep. And always with a start. Asleep to spring board in less than a minute. He guesses his body wants him to have some kind of order left, because he always wakes up in time to do his morning routine. First, pants. They’re somewhere down under the sheets at the end of the bed, and he fishes them out with a grin on his face. He slides them on without bothering with boxers and heads to the master bathroom.

Tony always teases him for brushing his teeth so carefully. But really, it’s nice to have the chance to. For years he remembers vague fuzziness on his teeth, and now it’s like he’s making up for it with rigorous brushing that usually makes his gums bleed. But it’s good, he likes just this much. Tony wouldn’t understand all the strange things he suddenly appreciated about not being on the run.

He peeks in the bedroom to see if Tony is sleeping. He might be pretending; Bruce can’t tell just looking in. He never sleeps. He passes out. But as he remembers Tony hasn’t really slept more than a few hours the past couple of days, so maybe he finally reached that point. Checking on him had become part of his routine, too. He puts the back of his hand up to Tony’s mouth and felt for a minute or so. Even, steady breathing. So definitely asleep. He isn’t all that good at faking if he’s not.

Bruce goes out to the kitchen to turn on Tony’s coffee maker. He’s pretty sure he makes the strongest coffee earthly possible, and you can smell it throughout the entire floor. He sets the kettle on for himself and heads back to the bedroom to grab clothes and a towel to take to the shower. The efficient way to do things would be to turn the coffee and the kettle on after he’s taken his shower, but sometimes Tony wakes up at a decent hour and if he doesn’t have coffee he’s about as amicable as a hornet, and Bruce doesn’t feel like dealing with that ever again.

As he washes his chest he thinks of the way Tony plays in his hair, and makes squares and patterns. One time he got pretty close to using his chest hair as a medium for a portrait of his arc reactor (Bruce thought Tony was better at seeing the resemblance.) He smiles as the suds rinse off his body hair and it lays flat on his skin. Tony made him like all this hair. Before he was just neutral about it. Tony made him like a lot of things he’d never really thought about before. The taste of skin, extra steamy showers, bubble tea, Calvin Klein boxers… the list ran on. He finishes rinsing his hair and steps out on the bathmat, roughly toweling off head to toe. He peeks in again and Tony has sprawled himself over all of the bed, now snoring pretty loudly.

He’s definitely faking. Bruce tickles the foot sticking out of the sheets and earns a kick to his hip and Tony groaning with his eyebrows knit tight. “Coffee’s ready.”

“So’s your coffin.” Bruce snorts and squeezes Tony’s ankle fondly before slipping back out to get his clothes. “You don’t need clothes, Bruce, come baaack.” Tony’s face is still in the pillow, and Bruce laughs as he slips his sweater over his head. All the sweaters Tony bought for him are purple and green. Bastard. He’s already worn them out from wearing them so much, though, maybe especially because Tony doesn’t stop touching him when he wears them. Tony probably has a psychological plan mapped out to get Bruce to wear all the things Tony likes, but considering Bruce doesn’t really care what he wears it doesn’t matter.

He pours Tony a cup of coffee and himself a cup of hot water, putting a bag of chamomile tea in it. He brought both cups to the bed and sat on the edge next to Tony and set his cup on the side table. When Tony finally sits up he drinks most of his cup in huge gulps. Bruce quit questioning whether that burned his throat a while ago. “You’re an angel,” Tony says eventually, still sleepy and groggy. Bruce rolls his eyes and drinks his own tea, blowing steam off the top.

“I went through my entire morning routine and you were sleeping. Well, almost all of it.”

“What’s left?”

“Science.” Bruce grins and Tony looks like he wants to roll his eyes, but they crinkle as he smiles instead.


End file.
